If Only You Didn't Follow
by CursingViolist
Summary: Living life as a teenage with two brothers, A-levels and now this over confident American always turning up on his door step Arthurs life is going to get a lot more stressful from now on. UsUk Fanfiction with other pairings suggested a little here and there. Mature for later chapters of adult themes and language.


I fumbled with my school bag's strap trying to look anywhere but my father's eyes. He'd been moving him jaw up and down aggressively for a while now. Words were coming out of his mouth, I was sure of it, but I only pretended to be listening to them. To be honest I wasn't even sure what he was moaning to me about this time. It was either that I need to make more friends or that my physics scores dropped a grade on my last mock, or maybe was it about branching out in my hobbies this time? After a while his tone seemed to calm down a notch and I zoned back in.

"Arthur you're better than this. I know you can do better" He looked at me with a concerned expression

"The friends you make now are the friends who you are going to stay in contact with" Arh it was the friend rant this time. "I never stayed in contact with my uni friends but my school friends I still am. I worry for you Arthur. You're my son and I want you to be happy. Having no friends, or even a Girlfriend at your age is sad, to be honest. Try harder when you get to school okay. "

He patted me on the shoulder after this. Most people may think he got angry over nothing. I certainly did but father was always made small things into big things. Once he'd left the room I sighed and finally dropped my bag on the hall carpet. Coming home from school and being lectured as soon as you get in wasn't the best start to my free time. I sighed rolling my eyes. After kicking my shoes off and hanging my coat on the end of the banister I ran up stair into my room. After somewhat slamming the door shut behind me I collasped face first into my bed. The sheets muffled another sigh.

A soft knock on my door made me roll my face to the side.

"Who is it and what do you want?" I couldn't be dealing with more moans if it was my mother.

"Calms yer tits Arty, it's only me" It was my brother. He opened the door and leaned one shoulder against the door frame.

"Go away, Allistor"

"What did he get on at you about this time?"

"About having no friends and being a loner" I rolled on my back staring up my ceiling.

"Oh that again. No one wants to be my poor wee brothers friend? No one want to be friends with Artie Wartie" He smirked popping a cigarette in his mouth and proceeding to light it with a lighter from his pocket.

I stared at him with a glare plastered across my face. "Dad finally got round to replacing the smoke alarms upstairs yesterday"

"Aww shit yer kidding me" He snuffed his cigarette out on the door frame quickly trying to wave the smoke out exsistence with a hand but it was too late. A loud high pitched beeping sound came from the ceiling. Soon after Dad's shouting could be heard coming up the stairs.

"I'm sorting it out old man! Give me a second" Allistor started to mumble after that but I couldn't work out what he was saying due the thickness of his accent. He pushed the button on the alarm to turn it off and set it back to normal.

Allistor wasn't my full brother, only a half brother. My mum was married to another man and had him as a child. Things didn't work out shortly after he was born and they split. When Allistor was two my parents met and had me. My brother wasn't always there. He spent most of his younger years in Scotland with his father but since I was Ten he's lived with my mother and I.

"You've been smoking haven't you! I told you not in the house you little shit!" My father never really got on with Allistor. One day I'm sure it will go further than insults but I push that to the back on my mind.

"I'm sure mam would love to hear your language towards me hackit!" Allistor snapped back.

"Just don't smoke in the house!"

"Fine!" Allistor rolled his eyes and strode off into his room slamming the door behind him.

Sighing I sat up in my bed puffing my cheek before letting air escape them slowly. The door across the hall clicked open. It was held a jar as my second brother popped his head out. He quickly brushed this slight curls out of his face to make eye contact with me. He stood staring a me for a second before I smiled and raised my eyebrows as if to say "It's exsactly what it sounded like". He looked away from me, thought for a moment then whipped his head back into his room shutting the door.

That was Dylan. The youngest of us three. He's three years younger than me and once again a half brother. Mum and Dad were on a rocky slope which led to Mum having a drunk one night stand. Once they got over their troubles Mum found out she was pregant. Dad of course found out and was furious. He blew his top and said he wanted the child aborted. She refused as she thought she had already lost one child, Allistor, and didn't want to lose this one either. Dad had to live with it and did for the first four years but he couldn't stand the site of Dylan and in the end Mum, Dylan and I lived with cousins in wale for a few years. I'd swap every few months from living with either Parent. It made family events like birthdays and christmas awkward but after another three years Dad finally accepted Dylan as he missed Mum and I to much.

Dylan did all he could do to get Dad to like him, unlike Allistor, and he has managed very well. They both share the love for rugby which helped a lot. I never really liked the sport that much. Nothing against the game I just don't like standing around in the rain watching men getting muddy tackling each other. So when Mum surgested instead of taking me to one of local games and taking Dylan the spark struck. Although I'm Dad's favourite Dylan is a close second.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood before walking to shut my bedroom door. Scanning my eyes around the room they rested on my CD rack. A smile spread across my lips. I crounched infront of it and ran a finger down the titles of the CD's. Stopping at one of my favourites I pulled it off the rack. Sex Pistols, classic late 70's punk. I opened the CD case and popped it in the small portable player next to the rack.

I used to have a better one but Mum took it away from me as I always put the volume to loud. Being an older smaller player the new one ,my mother said, 'solved the problem'.

Walking to my wardrobe I pulled off my tie and hung it on the knob of the door before opening it. Pulling out a hanger I took off my shirt and jumper hanging them up. Sixthform required us to dress in smart attire. I didn't mind this, rather liked it to be honest but it was always more comfortable to wear t-shirts and jeans when at home. Pulling out a t-shirt at random I pulled it over my head and swapped my trousers for a pair of jeans.

I flopped back on my bed and admired the design on my shirt to pass the time. It was a union jack painted on with paint splaters and a few black flicks here an there. The left side of the shirt had two tares in it where you could see my bare flesh. It wasn't entirely a conventional shirt. I brought a few years back when I was going through, what my mum likes to call, my rebelion stage. I really liked punk music and got into the fashion too.

I didn't see anything wrong with it. It was fun getting my ears peirced, minus the pain of course, and buying my self clothes rather than my mother getting my awful over sized t-shirts and jogging bottoms. Though my parents flipped when they came home to me dying my hair green in the bath tub with Allistor sitting on the toilet seat smoking. Allistor just came in to watch me but Dad blamed him straight away for me doing it. Mum broke down into tears. She was overwhelmed with the fact she'd found Allistor smoking, he told her he's stopped smoking a few monthes before, and me with bright green hair instead of my light blonde.

Mum even took me to see a psychologist. They sent her away with me saying nothing was wrong, which there wasn't. It was just a stage really. Since nearing the end of GCSE's I just stopped wearing the ear rings and dying my hair. It seemed to much effort along side my school work. Though the way I dressed may have been why I lost a lot of friends. I didn't really have many to begin with but I probably scared people off with the eyeliner and glowing hair.

Moving my lips along to the lyrics on the song I closed my eyes and tried to relax. It was just me and the music for now. I got 5 songs into the album when there was a shout up the stair.

"Arthur, would you come here a minute!" I rolled my eyes and turned off the cd player to see what my father wanted.

Dragging my feet downstairs I sat on the bottom step and looked up at Dad. "What's up, Boss?"

"Could you got buy us some dinner from the chippy? Mum said she won't be home till late tonight" Dad was an awful cook and was banned from the kitchen of the most the time.

"Sure" I wasn't really doing anything.

He handed me two twenty pound notes. "And keep the change to spend on what you like"

"Thanks" I smiled at him, I got pocket money but extra cash never went a miss.

Pulling on my coat and trainers I wrapped a scarf around my neck before grabbing my key. I stepped out the door and rubbed my hands together with the cold. Should have got my gloves but I could be bother to open the door again. Shoving my hands into a pocket each I hunched my shoulders into my scarf and begun walking down the road.

The Chip shop wasn't that far away from my house about a ten minute walk no more. It was my favourite place to get fish and chips no other place got the fish quite as nice. We went to Cornwall on a holiday once and that was good fish but the chips were soggy. And when it comes to Fish and chips, you can't have one without the other.

Stepping into the shop I brushed my feet on the mat and enjoyed the rush of warm air. There two people quing in front of me and another person sitting waiting for his order, quite quiet for a friday. After a short wait I was at the front.

"What can I get you, lad?"

"Four chips, with three cod and a place please"

"Regular chips?"

"Yeah, just regular mate"

"Okay, that's £22.50"

I handed him the money and he gave me my changed and a receit.

"The place will be about 5 minutes do you want to take a seat"

I nodded and sat my self in one of the waiting chairs. Half of the front of the shop was for waiting and the other eating in. Everyone from when I had first arrived had left by now. I sat tapping my foot humming one of the songs I was listening to earlier.

The bell above the door rang and someone stepped made a sound as he shivered from the cold and rubbed his arms.

"In the warm at last" Although he was clearly talking to himself he said it loud enough for everyone to hear. He was american. If his accent didn't give it away then the leather bomber jacket he wore certainly did. He had dirty blonde hair with an unusually big cowlick sticking up from his parting. It seemed to be standing up naturally. He was stocky, not necessarily chubby but he had muscle behind him from what I could tell from under his jacket.

He had a huge grin spread across his face as he approached the counter looking up at the menu. With a finger he pushed his glasses up his nose and moved his lips as he read what was on the menu.

"Do you do cheese burgers here as well as chicken burgers?" He looked at the till man questioningly.

"Not yet but we should be serving them by next week"

"Oh okay... um one large chips, a chicken burger-" he ran over to the fridge with at the other end of the counter and grabbed a bottle of coke. "-and this, please."

"That will be £9.70 please"

The american stuffed his hands into his pocket and pulled out a hand full of change and a five pound note. Giving the man the note and counting out the change the american thanked him and took a seat next to me.

I don't know why he sat right next to me when there was the rest of the chippy to sit in. But why had I been watching him buy his food this whole time? After a few quite moments he turned to me.

"Been here before?" He smiled at me.

I blinked for a moment before replying politely. "Quite often"

"Arh, cool. I just moved here a few monthes ago so this is my first time"

"Oh, really? Nice"

"Moved from Washington D.C, in the US" Why did he say the US I know where Washington is I'm not an idiot. Well one should always be polite to strangers, i told me self.

"That explains your accent then."

"Haha yeah. I never said my name, sorry. I'm Alfred F. Jones" He held out his hand grinning even wider. I took it and shook it. His grip was firmer than mine.

"Arthur Kirkland"

"I live just around the corner from her on Ealing Drive" He gestured out the window down the street.

"Oh, I live in the other direction. Not far from here either. Hedly Road" I pointed in down th otherside of the road.

"That's the road with the massive oak tree isn't it?!" He put an emphasise on the word 'massive'.

"The very one, Mr Smith lives there. Old and weird but lovely. Gives out the best sweets on halloween. I live opposite him"

"Wow that's so cool" He stared back at me as if it as the best thing in the world

"Not really" I smiled back.

A call came from over the counter.

"Three cods and a place each with chips?"

Stood from my chair.

"This is me. It was nice meeting you"

"And you. Seeya around"

I took the bag from the counter and waved a goodbye to Alfred before heading off home. I liked Alfred. He was friendly not a bad guy. I did wonder if I would see him around but didn't think much of it.

* * *

**Authors note: Hey there. Well this is my first fanfiction in a long while but recent events in my life have inspired me to write this usuk fanfiction. I'm still not sure where it is going in the long run but short term I have a pretty good idea which direction I want to steer it in.**

**If you're wondering why I didn't include Ireland or Northern Ireland as siblings, it's because there is much debate of their relationship in the fandom I've seen. So I thought it best just to leave it. Who know I might include them later.**


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